


Stars are up in the sky, dreams, I do not know

by YukiDelleran



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ending Fix, Fix-It, Happy Ending, M/M, Past Allura/Lance (Voltron), Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Sad Lance (Voltron), Supporting Keith, Three Years Later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23313487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukiDelleran/pseuds/YukiDelleran
Summary: “I know you and I never really got along and that asking you to help me in this situation is unfair on my part, but I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what is right and what isn’t. I want to free him from this burden, but I can’t take advantage of him now, it would be a vile move towards him, and toward you. I know you didn’t want this, I know you cared for him, even if maybe you never truly loved him. You didn’t want to tie him to you forever, you didn’t want to destroy him, because you weren’t like that. You wanted what was best for everyone. For this, I beg you, help me understand what is best for him right now.”Keith took his head in his hands in desperation.“Because I love him, Allura, I have always loved him, and it kills me to see him in this state.”
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 122





	Stars are up in the sky, dreams, I do not know

**Author's Note:**

> English translator: [MystOfTheStars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystOfTheStars/pseuds/MystOfTheStars) (thank you so so so much!)  
> This fic has art by [Robin](https://twitter.com/Gothikichigo/status/1107852286074802176) (I love it soooo much!)

The latest mission had been especially challenging. The trip to the old Galra outpost, where the population was brutally exploited for mineral extraction, had turned out difficult even for the roughest Blade of Marmora veterans.

As a Coalition ambassador, Keith had been trusted with the leadership of the mission. The dramatic situation he had faced had exhausted him physically and emotionally, draining his attention and every moment of his time.

Krolia had stood close to him, helped and supported him, but Keith hadn’t had the time nor the energy to care for anything else.

Because of this, he wasn’t surprised when his palmtop turned out full of messages during the trip back to Earth. Emails from Hunk telling him about the latest diplomatic lunch he had organized, and that had led to the negotiations’ full success. Video messages from Pidge—actually recorded by Matt—showing her as she busied herself with the umpteenth MFE improvement. Pictures of Shiro, greetings from Curtis, and reports by Coran. 

What caught his attention, though, was a recording made by Shiro himself just a few days earlier. In the message, he asked—in a stern and vaguely worried tone—to Keith to contact him as soon as the mission was over and Keith had some time to spare. Therefore, Keith didn’t wait and activated the call the moment the ship he was traveling on reached the Earth’s communication range.

It took a couple of minutes before Shiro answered, noticeably disheveled and sleepy.

“Keith—is everything okay? Where are you?”

“On the Blades’ ship. We are reaching the Solar System. Are you okay though? What happened? Are there troubles on Earth?”

Seeing a movement at Shiro’s left side, Keith understood the man wasn’t alone. He could hear a mutter.

“Hmm… Takashi, what’s happening?”

“It’s Keith. Don’t worry, go back to sleep.”

After that, Shiro got up from the bed and out of the room.

“I’m sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night. Say that to Curtis, too,” Keith cut short, anxious to know what had pushed the other man to leave him that message.

Shiro shook his head, to say he didn’t have to worry.

“I asked you to, so it’s all right,” he said. “First of all, do not worry, nobody is attacking Earth and there are no wars in sight. The problem is—more private, if I can say that.”

A vague feeling of uneasiness crept inside Keith. There was only one person he knew that could make Shiro worry like that.

“I’m listening.”

Shiro took his time to explain to him what was, as he himself admitted, mostly a premonition. He rounded around the core of the problem, trying not to alarm Keith, until Keith himself burst out and asked him to be clear.

“I haven’t heard from Lance since the latest celebration for Allura. He didn’t send news, he doesn’t answer my messages nor anyone else’s. I can’t leave the Garrison because of our ongoing projects and because of all the diplomatic matters, so I can’t check on him in person. But I’m worried.”

“From the celebration?! It was more than three months ago!” 

It had been the last paladins’ meeting before Keith’s mission with the Blades. As always, Keith had been keeping an eye on Lance. He knew that in those moments his friend felt particularly down and thought about his lost love. However, Keith didn’t recall any alarming signs. Then, during the mission, Keith hadn’t had any chance to check on him. What could have possibly happened in the meanwhile to push Lance to isolate himself?

“Traveling at this speed, we should reach Earth next week,” he informed Shiro. “I will go to see him in person. We shouldn’t have left him alone for so long. He says he’s fine, but we all know he’s a master at disguising what he feels.”

Shiro nodded through the screen.

“It’s what Veronica said. She tried to contact him, but without success. Her parents say that he’s become particularly shy since he moved into the new house. Among all the people who could go looking for him, I think you are the only one he’d accept seeing.”

Keith sighed, anxiety squeezing his stomach.

That mission had been important, they had saved countless lives, freed a planet, and added a new member to the Coalition. Despite all of this, he couldn’t help thinking that he shouldn’t have left Lance alone for so long. He shouldn’t have trusted the appearances.

  
  


Reaching house McClain hadn’t been difficult.

Once he had landed in the Garrison’s spaceport, Keith had completed all the reentry formalities as fast as he could, had found a moment to talk with Shiro, then left for Cuba immediately after. He had managed to convince his superiors to let him travel with a MFE fighter, with the excuse of testing a new device made by Pidge, but he would have to settle for a normal plane for his return.

The real challenge had been finding the new house, to where Lance had moved, far from his family’s land and immersed in a field of strong-scented juniberries, a pink sea waving gently to the soft breath of the spring breeze.

It was an enchanting and evocative place, yet wrapped in palpable melancholy. Keith could almost sense the feelings of who was taking care of those delicate flowers, day after day.

He sighed, then squared his shoulders. Beside him, Kosmo, now almost as tall as Keith himself, lowered his head to rub his wet nose against his face with a comforting whimper.

Growing more convinced of the necessity of his presence in that place, Keith tightened his grip on the small bag he carried as his only piece of luggage, then crossed the path to the house.

He waited on the porch for a few minutes after knocking and before the door was opened, and Lance appeared before him.

For a moment, Keith was baffled.

He recalled perfectly how Lance looked three months earlier, during the celebration, and now, somehow, the person in front of him was not the same.

He looked worn, skinnier than Keith remembered, and his face was marked by deep eye-bags. Even his hair was longer and neglected, falling on the sides of his face and on his neck in thin, limp locks.

The blue marks on his cheekbones made him look paler than he was.

Keith had to bit his tongue to refrain from any out-of-place comment.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, seeing the other man’s surprise. “It’s been some time, eh? Sorry for dropping by unannounced. Do you have some time for me?”

Lance shook himself out of his daze and nodded, making room for him in the entrance.

“When did you come back?” he asked, with the hint of a smile. “It’s good to see you. How is it going with the Blades?”

Keith stepped inside looking around as if expecting to enter some abandoned place. On the contrary, the environment was luminous, well kept, clean, and furnished with good taste. It would have seemed typical of Lance, except for the melancholic atmosphere permeating the interior.

“The latest mission was challenging,” he said, at the same time trying to chat and catch any sign of his companion’s discomfort. “We ended up on a planet, where people still lived in slavery and did not know about the end of the empire. It was hard to see how they lived, but we managed to save many lives and restore the beginning of a free society.”

Lance listened to him, nodding briefly and guiding him inside.

“Those poor people… are you well, though? To see you here alone is a bit weird.”

It was time for Keith to decide whether to be honest, risking being thrown out, or to make up a small, well-meant excuse, in the attempt to show some tact.

“I’m fine, but I’m quite tired. In truth, I came to ask you a favor,” he improvised. “Krolia insists that I take a break from missions. She thinks I overdid myself this time. That I must rest. So I thought—only if it does not bother you, that is—that perhaos I could stay a couple of days. Just the time to recharge the battery.”

Lance stared at him for an instant, appalled, looking as if he was going to object.

Keith tried to make up for it.

“I know I could go to my house in the desert, but—”

“Don’t even think of it!” Lance cut in. “You won’t go to that relic far from everything, you’d end up stressing even more. My place is your place, and I’m glad to have you here.” 

Beside Keith, Kosmo advanced toward Lance and lowered his big head to pant in his hair.

Lance stretched his hand and stroked him between the ears.

“You’re just as welcome, of course.”

His lips were distended in a kind smile, but not even that managed to wipe away completely the melancholy veiling his eyes.

“No, Shiro, I’m sorry, but I have yet to understand why he doesn’t answer your calls. It’s obvious that he is not alright, though. He’s unwell, even a blind man could see that. I’ll stay here for a few days to understand what happened.”

Keith sighed and lowered the tablet on his legs.

He was sitting on the bed in the guest room Lance had given him, his back against the wall. Kosmo was laying on the floor, occupying most of the available space.

Lance had gone to sleep early, so Keith had taken the chance to update Shiro, hoping for advice. The man had listened to him carefully, nodding gravely, begging him to be careful and to stay close to Lance.

“I’ll do what I can,” Keith promised, before a strange noise coming from the next room caught his attention.

He excused himself with Shiro and quickly ended the call. He stepped lightly down from the bed, patting Kosmo on the head to keep him quiet. He ventured in the corridor and peered through the next room’s door, left ajar.

Lance slept curled among the sheets, holding the hems tight. His breath was ragged, and he sobbed from time to time. It took Keith one instant to see he was crying.

In the darkness of the room, the Altean marks on his face shone faintly.

Keith hesitated. He made half a step forward, held out his hand, then brought it back to the door’s frame. He stood motionless as moments passed and his heart grew heavier with every tear he saw flowing. Eventually, he made up his mind. He advanced in the room to kneel beside the bed. He lightly shook Lance.

“Lance. Wake up, Lance. You’re having a nightmare,” he whispered.

Under the touch of his fingers, the man woke up suddenly and sat up panting.

“Sshhh, it’s alright. It was just a bad dream,” Keith tried to soothe him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Lance moved away and frantically dried his eyes.

“Keith! I’m sorry I woke you up. It’s fine, go back to sleep.”

Seeing him in such a state, Keith remained beside the bed, arms at his sides.

“I wasn’t sleeping. Lance… do you want to talk about it?”

The other shook his head firmly.

“No! It’s just a silly thing. I’m fine, for real. There’s no need to worry.”

When Keith left the room despite himself, tears were still wetting his cheeks.

What happened that night kept happening for a few nights after. Lance went to sleep early, had a nightmare that woke him up suddenly, then spent the rest of the night turning around in the sheets or walking aimlessly through the house. Keith heard him move from one room to the next but, whenever he tried to approach him, he was sent away. Lance was never rough or unpleasant, he simply belittled the problem and refused to talk about it.

  
  


During the day Lance went out to take care of Kaltenecker and the juniberry field that surrounded the house. Often Keith followed him with the excuse of helping. In those moments, he could almost seem the old Lance, but Keith knew better: the Lance he knew would have never hidden in that place forgotten by everyone, refusing any contact. The old Lance had done his best to enter the Garrison, he had faced and passed the exams for becoming a fighter pilot, and wished to see the stars more than anything else. Keith could understand that the traumas of war had left a trace on him—they did on everyone—but they couldn’t have led Lance to erase himself and his dreams like that. For as much Lance loved his family and his land, Keith could not believe that that simple life was all that was left for him.

As Keith looked at Lance pulling out weeds from the juniberry field, his heart grew heavier and full of an odd rage, he didn’t know where to aim at. It seemed that the vast field was an ocean, in which Lance tried to get lost, to cancel all perceptions by laboring hard, or simply by getting intoxicated with that sweet and persistent scent. Sometimes, Keith would have wanted to have Red’s fire beam to turn that pink tide to ashes once for all.

Pink was the mourning color for Alteans. Lance seemed to have made that alien tradition his own, literally immersing himself in it. But Lance was no Altean, not in reality, and pink went well beyond its generic meaning of mourning. That thought drove Keith crazy. Seeing Lance destroy himself that way drove him crazy.

Keith decided they had reached the breaking point the night when Lance woke up screaming.

Keith ran to his room immediately, expecting to find him curled out in the covers as always. As soon as he was at the door, he found Lance in his arms instead.

At the very beginning Keith froze—he was not used to that kind of outbursts yet, despite the years. When he realized Lance was shivering, however, he couldn’t refrain from returning the embrace. With some pushing and some pulling, he managed to bring Lance back to bed. He drew back enough to look at his face.

“Lance, please,” he begged, trying to keep his voice low and reassuring. “Talk to me. You can’t go on like this.”

Lance shook his head, desperate, the first sobs already finding their way in his throat.

“I can’t—not with you.”

Keith held him further away and more firmly.

“I know it’s because of the war, because of what happened. It is like this for everyone. If you think I can’t help you, if you don’t want to talk to me about this—”

His voice became lower, while a dull pain throbbed in his chest at the thought of yet another refusal.

“Call Shiro. Talk with him. He’s very worried for you.”

He had to force himself to add: “He’s experienced the same kind of loss, he could help you.”

At those words, finally Lanced looked at him in the eyes.

His gaze was darker than what Keith remembered, all the lively light that had always characterized it now lost.

“I can’t talk with Shiro precisely because of that,” he replied, making an effort in putting one word after the other. “I don’t want to reopen his wound, now that he has found some peace with Curtis. He doesn't deserve this.”

Keith wanted to tell him he understood his worries, but the truth was that he would have done everything to see those eyes lit up again with enthusiasm and will to live.

He reached out and, almost casually, he combed Lance’s disheveled hair back from his forehead.

Lance answered with a slightly surprised look.

“Then at least let me stay close to you. I don’t want to force you to talk to me if you don’t want to, but I don’t dare to leave you alone in this state.”

As he talked, he realized that those words could amount to imposing his presence against Lance’s will, so he hastily withdrew.

“Or I can leave Kosmo with you if you think I’m too much. He’s a very discreet company, but he’s a balm for the mood.”

Lance smiled faintly at those clumsy attempts at not being intrusive, then leaned against him once again, as if his strength had left him.

“Of course you can stay, Keith,” he whispered. “I am glad to have you here. You can’t imagine how much.”

He didn’t say anything more but hinted that Keith could follow him under the blankets, something Keith hadn’t even dared to imagine, thinking he would end up sleeping on a chair or beside the bed.

Lance didn’t give him his back. He kept his face turned to the ceiling and his eyes closed. Keith did the same, laying still at his side, peering at him from time to time from the corner of his eye.

It was during one of these glances that Keith noticed the faint glow of Kosmo coming into the room, when the wolf reached them and lay at the foot of the bed, filling all the available space. It seemed that, somehow, he too wanted to guard Lance’s dreams. Keith smiled in the dark: animals’ sensitiveness could be astonishing.

He couldn’t tell how much time had passed when Lance started talking. Keith was about to fall asleep when the voice close to his ear woke him up completely.

“I often dream of the war,” Lance began in a muffled voice. “Sometimes it’s simple images, from when we lived in the castle, fun scenes I like remembering. Some other times it’s the battles, the dangers we’ve faced, the people I’ve killed, the ones I couldn’t save… Everything I could have done to avoid someone else’s pain but I didn’t do. I see Allura telling me goodbye, looking at me, accusing me not to have done anything to stop her, to find another way. I know there could have been another way, there  _ always _ is another way. We have faced so many impossible situations, made so many plan Bs, except that one time. I can’t forgive myself.”

As he spoke those last words, he turned on his side, with his back to Keith.

“The marks I bear on my face—I can’t look at myself in the mirror. They are proof of my failure as a paladin, as a person, as a companion. They are a warning, reminding me constantly of the guilt I have to endure.”

Keith propped himself up on his elbow and placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder. At the very last moment, he refrained from forcing him to turn back.

If this was how Lance had felt, how he was feeling the whole time, they had been insensitive not to notice it so far. Keith felt like the most useless person in the world because he had no reassuring answers to give. He only had the reality of facts, which had never been a huge help for anybody. He could only try to make Lance a bit more objective and less strict with himself.

“You don’t have to atone for anything, Lance!” he cried out with emphasis so that Kosmo’s ears and head went up from the foot of the bed. “You don’t! Not just you, at least. None of us could have done anything in that situation. Allura decided to sacrifice herself, it was her choice and we didn’t have the time to think of an alternative. If there had been any. You can’t always have a plan B and we had to act quickly, the existence of all the universes was at stake. Allura was aware of it, as she was aware that she would cause you pain, but she did it for everyone’s sake. Lance, she cared for you, she certainly didn’t want you to live in remorse.” 

Saying those words out loud caused a pain in his chest, even after all those years.

Yes, Allura had cared for Lance, although not in the way Lance would have wanted, nor in the way Lance cared for her, but he certainly had been her support and refuge in those last days of the war.

“I didn’t do anything to save her. Nothing but cry.”

Lance’s voice reached him, muffled and broken.

“None of us could do anything—“

“But I loved her, Keith! I loved her and I let her die!” Lance cried out, suddenly turning towards him.

And Keith would have hit him, punched him and yelled for him to stop, but he hugged him instead and held him tight until the sobs against his chest placated in the silence of the night.

  
  


When Keith woke up the morning after, he wasn’t surprised to find himself alone in the bed and in the room. It was likely that Lance had woken up early to take care of the farm and, at the same time, to avoid any direct confrontation concerning the outburst of the night before. Keith didn’t mean to rub it in—not that—but he couldn’t pretend nothing had happened either.

Therefore he stood up, dressed quickly, and went to the kitchen. The water boiler hissed on the stove and the scent of coffee filled the room, but nobody was in sight. Only when he heard Kosmo bark, he looked out in the porch and saw both the wolf and Lance deep in the juniberry field surrounding the house. When Lance saw him, he stood up, arms heavy with flowers, and raised a hand to wave at him.

Keith waved back and welcomed him with a smile when Lance reached him in the porch, followed by Kosmo, who curled at their feet.

“What were you doing?” Keith asked, trying to start a conversation.

“I was checking on the juniberries, that they grew well, without weeds and pests. They have adapted well to the Earth climate and to the change of season, but they’re still vulnerable to some factors.”

Lance passed him, bringing the flowers inside. He placed them on the kitchen table, took a vase and arranged them there.

“I hadn’t changed Allura’s flowers yet since you came,” he said as if it was a more than sufficient explanation.

Keith followed him in the living room, where they had never lingered so far, sending him doubting glances, until he saw him place the vase on a small table, in front of a picture.

The image portrayed Allura and Lance himself, some years earlier, standing in front of a flowerbed in bloom.

“This…” he began.

“We took it on our first date. The only one, actually, on the last free day before leaving for space and ending the war.”

Lance talked about it as if it had happened centuries earlier, in another universe and another life.

“Ah! Before you come up with weird ideas! This is not an altar or anything of the kind, it’s just that… it’s the only picture of the two of us together, and since she liked juniberries so much, I think she would like to get a posy from time to time.”

At those words, Keith felt his stomach tighten: it was exactly what Lance tried to deny. What stood there was an altar in Allura’s memory. The whole house and the plantation around it were nothing but a sanctuary in her honor, inside which Lance had isolated himself.

And it certainly wasn’t doing him any good.

“What about going for a walk after breakfast?” he said casually, trying to change the subject.

Seeing him in such a state hurt Keith more than he was willing to admit even to himself, especially because he couldn’t see any actual way to help him.

Lance gave him a surprised look, but then he nodded.

“Of course. Where would you like to go?”

“Nowhere in particular. I was thinking of walking around the field to make Kosmo stretch his legs. It’s been some time since he had a good run.”

It could sound like a silly excuse, but it was the first on that came to his mind. Perhaps, if he managed to do what he just thought of, then he could entertain Lance a bit, just like in the old times.

In the beginning, it was nothing more than a normal walk, with Lance making way along the perimeter of the juniberry field, Keith following him, and Kosmo trailing behind. True to his nature, however—and just how Keith had hoped for—the wolf didn’t keep quiet for long. All that open space for running excited him, and he jumped around the two, sometimes even standing on his hind legs, which, given his height, could cause problems.

Keith placed a hand on his head, smiling at his wagging tail.

“What do you say, buddy? Can we all have fun together?” he asked, certain that the animal understood him.

Kosmo shook his head and knelt down.

Keith was waiting for the sign and straddled him as if he had been any mount, then offered his hand to Lance.

“What? No! Poor Kosmo, we’d be too heavy!” he protested, shaking his head.

Keith almost burst out laughing.

“You’re kidding, I hope! Kosmo can carry up to four people without any problem, so much he’s grown lately. C’mon!”

Encouraging Lance to do something fun was such a weird thing for Keith, a swap of roles that felt like unfamiliar territory. It didn’t undermine his determination, though.

When Keith felt Lance’s hand hold his own, he couldn’t help feeling a small sense of victory. He wanted to hear him laugh, laugh for real, and this was a small step in that direction.

Kosmo didn’t allow them time to properly settle on his back before jumping ahead and running along the field in long strides. Sitting behind Keith, Lance screamed in his ear and wrapped his arms around his waist to keep his balance. It was an odd, inebriating feeling. Together with the speed, it made his mind light.

“Make him slow down!” Lance cried. In answer, Keith bent forward and strengthened his hold on the wolf’s neck.

“You piloted Red, the fastest of the lions. Don’t tell you’re scared of a little run?” he teased him.

“That was different!”

Apparently annoyed at their protests, Kosmo left the perimeter and dived into the field, jumping among the juniberries to show his enthusiasm.

Keith held his breath and Lance screamed again as they sank into the pink tide. Kosmo seemed to appreciate it. To be sure the other two shared his enthusiasm, he dematerialized mid-jump and then rematerialized mid-air, the two men still on his back.

Taken by surprise, both of them screamed and tumbled messily among the flowers.

Almost immediately, Keith rolled on his back, laughing and sweeping strands of hair back from his eyes. Beside him, Lance was strangely silent.

“Is everything alright? Are you hurt?” Keith asked him as soon as he realized.

After a moment of silence, Lance turned toward him, still laying on his back, with the hint of a laugh.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I just wasn’t expecting it, so I got scared. For a moment there I felt like we were still on the battlefield.”

He propped himself on an elbow and smoothed his shirt.

“It’s stupid, I know, we were only playing. But Kosmo did use this trick to run from enemies and for a moment I felt like…”

Keith didn’t let him finish. He grabbed his arm and pulled him towards himself, making both of them fall on the ground again, among the flowers.

This time Lance laughed for real.

“What are you doing? Hey! I’m fine! I’m really fine!”

Keith, however, held him tight until the laughter died against his chest and Lance relaxed in his arms. They lay on the ground, enveloped but the juniberries’ sweet scent, for a time Keith didn’t care about measuring, while Kosmo kept running around enthusiastically. After a silence so long that—at some point, without them even noticing—it had become comfortable, Keith decided to ask the question that had been stalking his thoughts since the moment he had arrived.

“Have you ever thought of going back to space?”

Lance didn’t move. His head on Keith’s chest, he kept silent long enough, Keith thought he could have fallen asleep.

It took minutes for him to mutter “I don’t know”, which almost got lost inside the folds of Keith’s shirt.

Keith wanted to insist, but he felt the body against his own tense. It didn’t feel as at ease as it had been up to a moment earlier. Keith’s goal had been to make Lance have fun and to distract him from his anxiety, not to make him uneasy, surely. Despite himself, he dropped the subject once again.

  
  
  


He wouldn’t have expected Lance to bring it back that same evening.

Keith had gone out with Kosmo again that night, after dinner, and the sight of the limpid sky, dotted with stars, had made him feel nostalgic. Admiring the heaven from such an isolated place on Earth brought him back to the years spent in the Garrison, when he, a young and undisciplined cadet, would sneak to the roof at night to look at the stars and dream to reach them. Now that he had seen the stars too close, it felt like another world—another life. Still, it didn’t keep him from climbing—or rather, making Kosmo carry him up to the roof.

He had been lying on the tiles for ten minutes or so, eyes lost in the immensity of the dark sky, when a heavy plodding caught his attention.

“Damn you and your hiding places,” Lance muttered, climbing up beside him. “I don’t have a space wolf that teleports, I must climb roofs myself. Or on the lions, depending on the situation.”

Keith smiled at his hint of the past. He hadn’t forgotten when Lance, nervous as he was because of his first date with Allura, had literally climbed on Black to talk to him. Even now, he wondered what had prevented him from declaring his feelings to Lance, in front of that sunset.

Perhaps it had been the fact that he would have been rejected and it would have caused embarrassment on both of them, Keith told himself for the umpteenth time. If the trust between them had cracked, the whole team would have suffered and the might even not have been able to form Voltron again. He couldn’t risk the fate of the whole universe just because of the egoism of his own feelings.

Everything was different now, though. There was no danger anymore, nothing preventing him from talking. But Lance was different now, too.

“Did you come up here because you miss space?” he heard Lance asking. “I’m happy you’re here, but I don’t want you to feel you have to stay. You’re right in taking a break, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t want you to force yourself to remain here because you think I feel alone or stuff like that.”

As he talked, Lance sat beside him and Keith could look into his eyes at the same level. He was serious.

“It doesn’t seem to me you tied me to a chair,” he objected with a grin.

“I didn’t know you had such a kink, team leader!” Lance exclaimed, exaggerating a scandalized look.

Keith didn’t bother to reply. It almost seemed like it had been the old Lance to talk, the one always ready with ambiguous jokes, and the way he had called him warmed his heart.

“This morning you asked me whether I ever thought about going back to space and I didn’t answer you,” Lance went on, suddenly serious again. “I told you I didn’t know, but the truth is that I’m scared. I’m terrified, Keith, and I can’t get it out from my head, that us being alive here is some sort of miracle.”

Keith wanted to object that it had been thanks to everyone’s efforts that they had managed to realize an immense ideal, like stopping a millenary war, and then go back home, but Lance wasn’t done yet.

“Maybe it’s easier for someone like you or Shiro, who always know what to do and never bend in front of anything. Or for Pidge or Hunk, who can solve everything with their knowledge. But I’m not like that, and it’s a real miracle if I’m here, when even someone strong like Allura has left us. Or perhaps, it is more an injustice than a miracle. Perhaps, it had been better if I had sacrificed myself in her place, even if I wouldn’t have had the power to do anything…”

“Lance!”

At those words, Keith sat up to rebuke him.

“I’m sorry, you’re right, I’m becoming pathetic, I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s not the point!”

Keith ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“I don’t want—I don’t like to hear you talking about sacrifice or about being useless. It’s not true. It’s—it’s wrong. The fact that you’re here now is because you’ve put all of yourself in surviving, just like the rest of us, and it is not unfair. In fact, you made it, and it is something to be proud of.”

Keith had never been the type for encouraging or motivational speeches—that was more Shiro’s field—but it felt natural to do so with Lance. The way he saw him putting himself down and diminishing himself as if his own existence had small importance had never changed with the years—perhaps, it had even grown worse now. It seemed like the loss of Allura, on top of everything else, had been the final blow to his self-esteem.

Lance stared at him in puzzlement.

“Do you really think so? Do you really think I should be proud to be here when all that’s left of Allura is a statue?”

There was no sarcasm nor reprimand in his voice, it was a genuine curiosity, and to such Keith answered.

“Yes, I truly think so. I’m sure that Allura would tell you the same if she could.”

Lance smiled, with his everlasting sad air, and the Altean marks on his cheekbones shone faintly in the dark.

Before Keith could say anything more, Lance hurried to change the subject as if he didn’t want to dwell further on the matter.

“Talking about space! You haven’t told me about the Blades yet. Are you seeing someone? Has Acxa managed to melt our leader’s heart of ice?” 

He winked and Keith wondered what he had done wrong to receive this kind of question from Lance of all people.

He lay down on his back, head resting on Kosmo, curled behind him, and kept his eyes on the starry sky.

“Acxa? For real, Lance? How long has it been since you last talked to Veronica?”

The icy silence that fell beside him made him worry for a moment.

“Are you going out with Veronica?”

If he hadn’t been looking at the sky already, he would have rolled his eyes toward it.

Sure, he lived alone, but Keith couldn’t believe Lance had never noticed anything.

“No, Lance, I’m not the one dating your sister. Honestly, I’m not the right person to tell you about it. She will in due time, I believe. What about you, though? Have you met someone new? You’ve talked to so many people since we came back. All were charmed.”

Of course they had been charmed, Keith told himself. It wasn’t every day you met a Paladin of Voltron, who had survived a millenary war, going around to tell tales of an alien princess, whose marks he bore on his face. Anyone would have been curious.

Keith sighed and tried to keep his own bitterness at bay. Such an attitude wouldn’t help anyone.

“Well, actually, a few people among the ones coming to listen to my tales did ask me out, to get to know one another better, they said,” Lance replied, scratching his cheek, vaguely embarrassed. “I told myself I could try to talk to them, that it could be pleasant to spend time together. But it didn’t go as I hoped. The girls wanted to have the role of the princess in my story, while the boys cared only about battles and weapons as if it was a game. I gave up. Loverboy Lance has lost his touch, it seems.”

“It’s not your fault if these people don’t know what fighting a war means,” Keith objected.

“Maybe so, but it doesn’t make me want to go out with them.”

Keith breathed in deeply. Perhaps he could try. Perhaps, it might be the chance to…

“You might try to date someone who’s lived through the same ex—“

“It’s late, shall we go to sleep?”

The interruption was so brusque that Keith wished he had never spoken.

They came down from the roof thanks to Kosmo, who teleported them straight to the kitchen.

Keith didn’t say anything. Words seemed redundant. All he did was bid Lance goodnight and go back to his room. The wolf followed him, scampering at his side.

Lance had barely replied to him.

“I’m a fool,” he whispered as he sat on the bed, after changing for the night.

Kosmo whimpered, curling at his feet and pushing his wet nose against the palm of his hand.

“I know, buddy, you’re right. I shouldn’t have said it, right then. I was tactless.”

Kosmo shook his big head, rubbing his muzzle against his hand, and Keith felt stupid. At his age, he had left his past traumas behind, his fear of abandonment, the terror of being rejected by others. Finding his mother again had helped him make peace with himself and his own nature. He had been aware of his feelings for years without having them returned. He had never wanted to impose them on anyone, so now it didn’t make any sense for him to be disappointed.

But that was how he felt.

To be shut up during his awkward attempt to breach the subject, when he thought he could feel a moment of shared intimacy, had hurt him. It had reminded him of the reason why he had refused for years to establish a relationship with anyone.

“I’m not twelve years old anymore,” he muttered to Kosmo. “And I’m not so selfish to help him and ask for something in return. I only want him to be okay.”

Again, the wolf whimpered in understanding, then lifted his ears and turned his attention to the room’s entrance.

Keith followed his gaze and was surprised to see Lance standing at the door, wearing his pajamas and holding a pillow in his arms.

“Forgive me,” he began, sounding unsure. “I might be indiscreet and annoying, but… yesterday night I slept well. After crying like a child—please forget that pathetic scene. So I was wondering if it maybe… If you don’t want to, it’s fine, I understand, I definitely wasn’t good company earlier…”

Keith smiled inwardly. Such an awkward speech was so Lance.

“I don’t mind if you want to sleep here,” he replied. “I can come to your room, too, if you’d rather sleep there.”

“Here is fine. Thanks.”

Lance climbed on the bed and lay under the blankets, placing his pillow next to Keith’s in the small space that remained.

They had to stay close—the guest room had a single bed—but Keith had no intention of complaining. He lay down next to Lance, back to back, leaving him the choice to turn toward him or not.

When Keith turned off the light, silence filled the room, interrupted only by their breath and by Kosmo’s occasional stirring. Only after several minutes, Lance broke it, talking as if he was still following a conversation that went on his mind alone.

“In the end, I think Allura never loved me,” he whispered.

Lance didn’t sound dubious. He stated a certainty, reached after giving it much thought.

Keith couldn’t pretend indifference and turned on his back, feeling Lance’s body against his left side.

“What makes you think so?” he asked. 

He would never deny something he himself was convinced of, but he feared the reasoning that had led Lance to such a conclusion.

The silence stretched in the room’s darkness until Lance sighed.

“Facts,” he said. “Allura never smiled with enthusiasm when she was together with me. She wore either lukewarm smiles or expressions of sadness. She was always worried, anxious, or dejected. So different from when she was together with…”

He stopped, but one name hovered in the air, clearer than ever.

“Lotor,” Keith spelled out, perfectly aware of where that would lead.

“Right. I didn’t want to admit it, but I always knew. She suffered from his absence and his betrayal—if you can call it a betrayal. Keith, we have never really listened to him. There could have been an explanation, a reason. We hated him. I hated him on impulse, but perhaps we shouldn't have left him to die in the rift. I’m sure she never forgave herself for it.”

It was a thought that had hunted Keith’s mind again and again through the years, but he had never reached any satisfying conclusion. There were no excuses or justifications for what they had done.

“Had Lotor been there, Allura would have never allowed me a chance, but perhaps she would have been happier. Maybe she wouldn’t have sacrificed herself. Maybe we wouldn’t have reached a point where we must save all existent realities from the madness of a desperate mother.”

“Had Lotor been there, Honerva would have never done what she did, but you can’t live on ifs and maybes, Lance,” Keith pointed out. “We are here now and we can’t do anything to change what happened.”

Lance remained silent again, for so long Keith thought he had fallen asleep at last, so he was surprised when the other spoke again.

“Sorry if I ask you, but—could you come… closer?” Keith heard him say in a barely audible whisper.

He hadn’t moved and his back was still toward Keith, so it was he who turned so that his chest was pressed against Lance’s back and he could put his arms around him. Keith left room for Lance to draw away from the contact if he so wished, but if Lance froze at first, then he relaxed in his arms and finally sunk into a restoring sleep.

As they had breakfast the morning after, the phone started suddenly ringing. In addition to his cellphone, Lance still owned one of those old models with a built-in answering machine—and that was the one that caught their attention. Keith moved as if to stand, but Lance annoyingly gestured him down, as if to underline it happened often and it was nothing but a bother. The phone hissed, the answering machine cut in and a well-known voice filled the room.

“Lance! I know you’re home. Stop ignoring me and answer the phone!”

Keith immediately recognized Veronica’s firm tone, but Lance didn’t move.

“At least tell me if you thought about Merla’s proposal. I think it would be a nice opportunity for you to go back to work for—”

Lance stood up at last, took the receiver, and slammed it down, cutting the message.

“And this is the reason why I haven’t talked to Veronica lately.”

Everything happened so fast that Keith had barely the time to register the meaning of the oldest McClain sibling’s words. He had never heard of any proposal made to Lance. If Merla was involved, then it had to be something concerning the Alteans. It was weird, at the very least, that Coran had never mentioned it to him.

“If you’re wondering why you didn’t know anything, it’s simply because they’re waiting for me to accept, so they can spread the news. But I won’t, so they’re only wasting time,” Lance said in a flat tone, starting to collect their cups to pile them into the sink.

“Accept  _ what _ ?”

“To be their ambassador on Earth and inside the Coalition. I don’t know what they’re thinking, but two marks on my face won’t make me one of them.”

There was a tiredness in his voice and a rooted, ill-concealed exasperation.

“Veronica was saying you would be going back to work for…?”

“For the Garrison. She can’t wait to have me back in the missions, but I don’t want to go back to space, not with this burden on my conscience.”

Keith thought again of the conversation from the night before, and of Lance’s confession about his fear at the idea of new missions.

He placed an elbow on the table and his head on the palm of his hand, looking at Lance’s expression, a mix of weariness, exasperation, and resignation to the unavoidable.

“If you think that I, too, am going to scold you, you can stop to look at me like that. I won’t,” he said. “I think the choice is yours alone. Nobody has the right to insist on something you don’t want to do. And it’s particularly true for a delicate role like the one as the spokesman for the Alteans. We might have spent a long time with them, but this doesn’t make them your people.”

As he talked, he saw a new expression bloom in Lance’s eyes, that looked very much like gratitude, and took the shape of a smile—free, at last, from the veil of sadness that always accompanied it in the previous days.

“I couldn’t expect anything different from the one who refused to be made Emperor of the universe.”

“They didn’t ask me to be Emperor of the universe!” Keith bristled.

Lance’s crystal-clear laughter filled the room and Keith realized how much he had missed it. Without anyone realizing it, in the years of the war in space, Lance’s laughter had become the balm soothing everyone’s mood. Keith had understood it only when he had found himself deprived of it: Lance had been the glue holding the team together. He had always supported all of them, even in the darkest moments. And nobody had ever shown him enough gratitude, not even Keith.

He was about to speak up, when Lance talked first, barely restraining his laughter.

“Oh, Keith, you have no idea how grateful I am you’re here!”

  
  
  


That he was genuinely happy and grateful for Keith’s presence in his home was a truth that Lance had found hard to admit at first, even to himself. In the beginning, he had been vaguely annoyed by Keith’s unexpected arrival. He had been afraid that Keith had been sent by Veronica to convince him to accept the Alteans’ offer. The more time passed, however, the more he realized that Keith’s presence had nothing to do with that: he was only worried about him and his health.

Even so, it hadn’t been easy. Lance was convinced that Keith was the last person he needed to see right then, that he was going to make everything more painful, pushing him with a pressure he wasn’t ready to face. Once again, however, Keith had surprised him: he had stood at his side, supporting him without asking for anything back, comforting him, being more understanding than he recalled him ever being.

Lance supposed that, perhaps, Keith knew far too well what it meant to suffer the loss of someone, to feel torn apart, to be forced into an unacceptable role. Perhaps that was why Keith kept close to him without forcing him in any way.

There might have been another reason, however, a reason Lance wished for deep inside him, but that terrified him because it would make him face a choice he didn’t know if he could make.

A reason which, willingly or not, he found himself discovering a few days later.

It was barely past lunchtime and Lance was coming back from his walk with Kosmo, a habit he had taken to lately, to let the wolf run free and Keith have some time alone, so he could contact Shiro, Krolia, or anyone from the Garrison or the Blades that needed him.

That afternoon they had come back earlier than usual. It didn’t matter what Lance said, it was always Kosmo who decided when their walk was over. Lance stopped by the kitchen in order not to disturb Keith, seemingly engrossed in a conversation in the living room. However, what caught Lance’s attention was the tone of Keith’s voice: it was muffled and broken, different from the formal one he used in his work calls.

Curious, Lance peered through the door and what he saw left him speechless.

Keith sat on the armchair by the table with Allura’s picture, to which he was talking. He spoke in a low tone, hands on his lap, and Lance could barely make out his words.

“I know you and I never really got along and that asking you to help me in this situation is unfair on my part, but I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what is right and what isn’t. I want to free him from this burden, but I can’t take advantage of him now, it would be a vile move towards him, and toward you. I know you didn’t want this, I know you cared for him, even if maybe you never truly loved him. You didn’t want to tie him to you forever, you didn’t want to destroy him, because you weren’t like that. You wanted what was best for everyone. For this, I beg you, help me understand what is best for him right now.”

Keith took his head in his hands in desperation.

“Because I love him, Allura, I have always loved him, and it kills me to see him in this state.”

Lance drew back suddenly, flattening against the wall with his heart racing.

Did he get it right? No, that couldn’t be possible, he must have gotten it wrong.

Keith could not have said he was in love with him, it didn’t make sense, it didn’t—

A sequence of images started parading in his confused mind, images of all the times Keith had reassured and comforted him during the last period of the war: when he had soothed him before his date with Allura, that night on top of the Black Lion, in front of that wonderful sunset. Or when they had talked after defining their final plan, that Lance knew was too dangerous, and Keith had encouraged him to have faith. Even earlier, so much earlier, when Lance’s doubts on his legitimacy as a Paladin had overcome him, Keith had prevented him from giving up. And then, after everything had come to an end, when Lance had found Keith on his doorstep with a worried face, an excuse on his lips, and a shoulder for him to cry on.

Always, every moment, Keith had looked at him as if he was something precious, something of value, with a tenderness in his eyes that Lance didn’t know how he had missed. How could he not notice the look on Keith’s face whenever he called him team leader? How could he be so blind to ignore those smiles, so rare yet so beautiful, which seemed meant for him only?

The truth was that he had always seen everything, he had noticed each and every detail, but he had decided to ignore them, because he had been too coward to accept he could feel something that went beyond the camaraderie. Because there was Allura, and she was the right one on whom to concentrate, the one he could feel attracted to without problems, and everything was fine.

But now, all his certainties were gone, he had lost his landmark, and this sudden revelation had shaken his own being at its roots. He wasn’t ready for this, he couldn’t simply cancel the past and forget a loss that had broken his heart. It would have been unacceptable toward Allura, a betrayal of sorts. A luxury he did not deserve.

Kosmo’s whimpers brought him back from his thoughts and made him realize that he wasn’t alone in the room anymore.

Keith had come into the kitchen, beside the chair where Lance had collapsed, and was looking at him with worry in his eyes.

“Kosmo warned me that something wasn’t right. Are you okay?”

Lance stared at him from his position. He was completely unprepared for a confrontation.

“Of course I’m fine! Don’t worry!” he made all too hastily, as he felt a guilty redness warm his cheeks. “I was just thinking. When I was out earlier, I noticed that the ground is a bit dry, so I think I will stay out and water it this afternoon. You don’t have to come, stay home and work!”

When he realized Keith was about to object—likely about the fact that he had nothing to work on—Lance stood up, awkwardly pretending to be busy, and left the room.

He couldn’t face him, he didn’t have the strength.

Not now. Likely never.

  
  
  


That night, Lance didn’t ask Keith to sleep with him, and Keith didn’t dare to insist or ask questions. Lance had been weird and far away for the whole afternoon. Keith had no idea of why, but he didn’t have the right to press him. Therefore, he lay down in his room without any comment, with Kosmo at the feet of the bed, and tried to restrain his thoughts and fall asleep.

Earlier that day, for the first time, he had dared to voice his feelings, although it had been in the silence of an empty room. The confession had left him void of emotions. He had not solved anything, of course. He wasn’t expecting to find answers, but saying it out loud had scaled down his feelings, had made everything more real, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Perhaps it had been foolish because now it was going to be even harder for him to resign.

He was about to sleep, at last, when a familiar sound of sobs found him.

Keith sighed. Instinct suggested to run to Lance immediately, but doubt stopped him. If Lance wanted him close, he would ask him, as he had done before. Maybe he would rather be alone, this time.

“KEITH!”

The desperate cry that followed swept all doubts away, and the young man jumped from the bed, his heart pounding. He ran to the nearby room and found Lance lying on the sheets, sobbing.

“Keith! No! Please!” he kept repeating. “Please, don’t leave me… without you, I—I wouldn’t know how to go on… Keith, I’m sorry… it’s my fault…”

Faced with such angst, Keith felt his heart squeeze. He surely was dreaming again about war, but hearing his name called with that desperation made him shudder.

“Wake up, Lance,” he whispered, shaking him gently. “I’m here. It’s just a dream, everything’s fine.”

Lance opened his eyes and it took him a moment to focus on Keith’s shape. He threw his arms around his neck, holding him as if Keith could vanish from one moment to the next.

Keith found himself returning the hug, caressing his back to soothe him.

“I’m here, I’m right here,” he kept repeating until he felt Lance’s quick breath slow down slightly.

After a time that felt endless, Lance held up his head and looked at him with tired, reddened eyes. He looked so upset that Keith couldn’t refrain from asking: “Did you dream of the war? Do you remember what you were saying?”

Those words, so heartfelt, too close to a confession, were burned into his mind.

Lance nodded slowly, lowering his eyes.

“I’m sorry. It’s awful. I’m so very sorry,” he mumbled.

Keith shook his head.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Do you feel like talking about it? The things you said—”

“You were dying, Keith,” Lance cut in, shivering. “You were dying in my arms because I hadn't been good enough to cover you. I couldn’t lose you, I  _ cannot _ lose you, I can’t—I need you.”

He drew back slightly and covered his eyes with his hand, uselessly trying to cover the new tears wetting them.

“I don’t know what to do,” he sobbed. “I can’t accept to have feelings for someone else. I can’t do it, I can’t betray her.”

Keith felt the knot in his stomach tighten painfully. The situation was hurting both of them and all he could offer were just words—stupid, useless words.

“You aren’t betraying her, Lance,” he said in a broken whisper. “She wouldn’t want you to isolate yourself your whole life inside a mausoleum to her memory. Allura wanted what was good for people, and she certainly wanted the best for you. Even if it’s painful, life goes on.”

For a moment, Lance looked at him as if Keith was speaking a language he didn’t understand.

“When I lost my father, I thought the world would end with him. I swore I wouldn’t grow close to anyone else so that they could not leave me and make me suffer again. Then Shiro came. It was hard, but I understood I couldn’t live inside a shell forever. When I met you all, I slowly learned to be with others, feel good with others again. When you came and I fell in love with you, I understood that it would be worth it, even if I was going to suffer again.”

When Lance’s eyes widened, Keith realized he had just confessed his feelings as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He blushed slightly in turn but forced himself to smile.

Lance’s avoided his eyes, uneasily.

“I was a fool to think you couldn’t understand. It’s just that I—I don’t think I can forget Allura. I won’t love anyone else as I loved her.”

It was a painful statement, but an understandable one. Keith had expected it, although it didn’t make it any less upsetting.

“You don’t have to forget her,” he said, gently caressing his cheek. “She’s part of you and I love everything about you, even your memory of her. I would never ask you to love someone else as you loved her. Everyone is different, and so are feelings.”

Unexpectedly, Lance smiled faintly and relaxed again in his arms.

“I didn’t think you’d become so wise. Where did the hot-headed leader I knew go?”

“He spent two years camping on a space whale with the sole company of his mother and a wolf. You learn a lot of things.”

Finally sensing that he was calmer, Keith nodded toward the pillow behind them.

“It’s late, what about you try to sleep some more?”

He knew they should talk. That his feelings were returned was something he wasn’t able to realize yet, but Lance needed rest. He had spent too many sleepless nights so far because of thoughts and nightmares. Now, all Keith wanted was him to relax and feel at ease.

“Will you remain with me?” Lance asked, without drawing back, and Keith smiled understandingly.

“Every time you want.”

  
  


The following morning, Keith woke up alone, with an annoying feeling of déjà-vu: the same thing had happened the first time they had slept together, and Lance had preferred ignoring the subject instead of facing it. However, this time it hadn't only been about calming his nightmares; they had confessed their feelings to each other, they had opened their hearts to each other. Keith hoped they had made a step forward.

He found Lance in the kitchen, busy with making coffee like every morning.

“Good morning, Keith!” he greeted him as nothing had happened, with a faint smile on his lip.

“We must talk,” Keith went straight to the point.

“About what? I really don’t think it’s necessary.”

His answer, given in such an apparently calm and unconcerned tone, annoyed Keith.

He had told himself he was going to respect Lance’s pacing, to stay beside him without asking him anything, but what had happened the night before went beyond simple comfort. It couldn’t be dismissed as if nothing had happened.

“I think it is,” Keith said, coming close.

Lance found himself with the kitchen counter behind him and no way out. It wasn’t an ideal situation, since Keith didn’t want to make him feel like he was trapped or forced, but he needed certainties. He himself needed to understand.

“The old Keith would have run,” Lance commented, struggling to keep the appearance of a calm smile. “Then it is true that you’ve become wise.”

“Running from problems never helped solve them.”

“So this,” Lance gestured toward himself, Keith, and the room around them, “is a problem?”

Keith sighed.

“It is not if it isn’t a problem for you. But we can’t ignore it either. I said I love you and you said you felt something. And I—I need to know.”

As he talked, he had moved forward, placing his hands on the counter at Lance’s sides, who was now staring at him, and Keith could spot wariness in his wide eyes.

Had Lance done anything to free himself, even the smallest gesture, Keith would have let him go and forget the whole story. But Lance didn’t move.

Keith bent toward him, his eyes fixed into Lance’s, getting closer with his lips, but searching for the minimum sign of refusal. It was Lance who placed his hand behind his neck, sinking his fingers into his disheveled, dark hair, to pull Keith toward him and kiss him.

It was a slow kiss, gentle and slow at first, but deeper and more passionate as seconds went by. Keith let Lance take the lead, without forcing him, still too surprised that he had taken the initiative to even think about leading.

When they drew apart, Lance stood motionless for a moment, eyelids low and lips half-open. His Altean marks let out a pale glow thanks to the blush on his cheeks, and Keith thought he had never seen anything more beautiful.

He put his arms around him, like he had done so many times in these recent nights, and held Lance close, letting him lean on himself completely. He stepped back only when he felt the fabric of his shirt getting wet.

“Sorry!” he said, relenting his hold. “I didn't mean to make you feel uneasy—”

“I’m not,” Lance replied, holding his head up and wiping his eyes. “I’ve wished for this for such a long time... I feel guilty, as if I just proved fake all I’ve felt so far, as if I betrayed Allura and all the pain I felt for her. I don’t feel—” he sighed and his breath broke into a sob. “I don’t feel the right to leave everything behind me.”

Keith held up his hand and caressed one tear away.

“You have all the rights to leave your pain behind you, I already told you so. It doesn’t mean denying what was, or making it less valuable. It only means you keep on living. What you felt for Allura, the love you gave her—they will not turn into a lie only because you let yourself care for someone else.”

And Lance smiled among the tears, and placed his hand in turn on Keith’s cheek, precisely above the scar left by an old, devastating battle. Keith knew what he was talking about, nobody could possibly know about it more than him.

“You really became wise. Sorry if it will take time, and thanks for being here.”

  
  


Keith stayed at the farm during the following months, until it became too hard to find excuses that stood against Kolivan and Iverson’s questions. Krolia and Shiro backed him, but it was clear that soon he would have to go back to his duties and to Blades of Marmora’s peace missions.

During that time, his relationship with Lance had grown deeper, letting him discover new, sweet sides in the other man. Tenderness, small daily kindnesses Lance saved for him, gifting him with smiles that grew warmer every day. Without obstacles between them, that feeling had grown naturally, bringing both of them joy and serenity they had never dreamed of. 

As time passed, Lance began accepting his sense of guilt and living with it, until he could let go of it completely, to embrace a love that could lift his spirit.

They discussed space travel again, in a much calmer way that didn’t push or force Lance, and he started reconsidering. On one hand, it was because he knew Keith couldn’t remain there forever, on the other, because he was becoming aware of the fact that burying himself in that lonely farm when he was 23 years old was not going to solve any problem. His dreams as a space pilot had broken against the wall of a war that hadn’t spared anyone, but, perhaps, there was still someone he could help out there, in some small way.

It was with this thought in mind that Lance woke up on the last day of Keith’s stay at the farm.

He resurfaced from sleep’s oblivion gradually and, as it was happening often lately, without his heart racing because of a nightmare. The first thing he felt, even before he opened his eyes, was warmth surrounding him. Keith’s arms wrapped him reassuringly and affectionately, as he slept behind him, and made him calm and safe, serene after such a long time.

When he finally opened his eyes, his gaze landed on his own hand and fingers, laced to fair-skinned ones. On both of them, in the pale morning light filtering through the shutters, a silver ring shone faintly.

It was not an engagement ring, as Keith had specified the night before in giving it to him. It was too soon for that and he had no intention to rush things. It was just a pledge for a promise of a future, which would come if both of them wanted it.

Keith had said those words with such a red face, beyond any tolerable level of embarrassment, that Lance would have married him right then, in the kitchen, in front of a sink full of dirty dishes, with Kosmo as their witness. Instead, he had smiled, nodded, and kissed him, feeling the luckiest person on Earth—no, in the whole universe. Keith had come looking for him, worried for him, cared for him and for his broken heart, and had trusted Lance with his own, saving Lance from himself and from the spiral without an exit in which he had fallen. He had done a miracle.

“What are you thinking about?”

Keith’s voice, next to his ear, brought him back to the present.

“That we will have to take Kosmo out for a long run in the field today so that he can enjoy the open air before being locked inside a spaceship for a long time again.”

Keith sunk his nose into his neck, tickling his sensitive skin with his breath.

“My offer of leaving Kosmo here is still standing if you change your mind.”

“He prefers to stay with you.”

Lance turned in the embrace and giggled, running his fingers through Keith’s locks, scattered on the pillow.

“It’s grown so much, I could easily braid it like Kolivan’s, in the Blade’s style.”

A grimace crossed Keith’s face.

“I’d let you do it only if you were very insistent. You know I prefer it tied back.”

“Then I’ll remember to be very insistent.”

That day, they spent all their free time outside. They had lunch in the juniberry field and let Kosmo run freely among the flowers.

For some time, now, the color and scent of those delicate petals had not made Lance feel the knot in his throat. He started realizing how that field was similar to an evocative pink sea. Now, he could look at it with sweetness and longing, without being consumed by pain.

He couldn’t say how it happened, but he had slowly begun to smile at the thought of Allura, at the memory of how much he had loved her. He had started forgiving himself for not having succeeded in an impossible task, to look at Keith and accept he could feel love for someone again. It had been a slow process, and he had often gone back to apathy and anxiety, but now he knew he was going to get better.

He had managed to get a hold on his life again, if with difficulty, awkwardly, and stumbling at each step. Now he only had to go on.

Hours went by one by one, while the sun made its arch in the sky and ended up hiding behind a not very reassuring cloud in the late afternoon.

“Huff, it’s going to rain,” sighed Lance, who had hoped in a bright day for their last moments together.

“It might just be passing by,” Keith suggested, looking hopefully at Kosmo rolling in the field.

Lance shook his head.

“I’ve been here too long not to read the signs. A summer storm is coming. Actually, we’d better go if we don’t want to get home all soaked up.”

Of course, the first shower took them halfway to home, thoroughly wetting them.

Kosmo intervened and teleported them in front of the door, saving them from ending up covered in mud up to their knees.

Lance took Keith’s hand and pulled him beneath the porch, laughing.

They stumbled on the steps, their clothes and hair clinging to their skin. As they ran, Lance’s shirt had slipped from one shoulder, uncovering the light top he wore underneath. Keith’s t-shirt was so wet it wasn’t transparent only because it was black, but it clung to his chest like a second skin, tracing his muscles and leaving nothing to imagination.

Following an instinct Lance had only recently discovered he possessed, Lance pulled him against himself, his back adhering to the wall.

Keith placed one hand to the wall to keep his balance, and Lance sunk his fingers into his long, dark hair, now free from the band tying it. He pulled him close and kissed him with all the love he felt because it was all he wished for right at that moment.

He was never going to deny himself those small gestures, thinking he didn’t deserve them. They didn’t hurt anyone, they didn’t take anything away from what had been and, most of all, they brought him joy.

The light in Keith’s eyes when he kissed him, the tenderness and affection he read there were the balm his heart needed.

Like now, with Keith staring at him, wide-eyed and baffled.

“Lance…”

Perhaps too baffled.

“What?”

“Your—the Altean marks. They’re gone.”

Lance brought his hands to his cheekbones, speechless.

He couldn't feel any difference by touch alone, of course, but something inside him told that it was really so, that Allura’s obsessive ghost, which he had created, had finally let him free.

He was filled by a sense of lightness, as if a huge burden had been lifted from his conscience and heart, and two small tears popped out at the corners of his eyes.

“I probably shouldn’t feel like this, but I’m happy,” he whispered. “I don’t need two marks on my face to remember her and how much I cared for her. Now I feel I can be myself again.”

He closed his eyes, breathed in, and his lips stretched into a smile.

When he opened them again, he stared directly into Keith’s dark eyes, still shining with surprise.

“So you were saying that you are short on people for this mission? Do you think there is still place?”

And Keith wrapped his arms around his waist, lifting him in a sudden pirouette, making both of them laugh.

“For you, always! I can’t wait to have you again at my side, in the stars!”

**Author's Note:**

> Yuki - [Fairy Circles](https://www.facebook.com/FairyYuki)


End file.
